That old familiar feeling.

Today can suck it. Yesterday too.
Last night I found out through effing F@cebook that the guy I dated for a while right before The Boy is having a kid. Well, technically his wife is.
"But hey, everyone else is pregnant too or just had a baby, why should this bug you?"
The reasons don't entirely make sense, and certainly don't cast me in the most flattering light, but allow me to explain.

This guy and I dated on and off for about 8 months. He was The Boy's roommate (I know, I totally pulled the Seinfeld roommate switch!) and when we were together he talked about us being serious, but when I was gone he talked about how he was basically using me and felt kind of bad...but not bad enough to stop. Fast forward to me finally getting sick of it and being ready to be done with the whole farce. I went on a road trip with The Boy and some friends and The Boy's Roommate (TBR from now on) couldn't come. I come home ready to make a clean break (TBR had ended things about 2 months prior, but I still maintained hope of us getting back together because I am sad and pathetic) and suddenly TBR realizes how much he missed me and is being all wishy-washy about things. I tell him we're done, he makes sad faces, I hang out with The Boy much more, we end up getting engaged, TBR is all pissy pants and "needs some time" to get over things. Well tough nipples planet, I wasted enough of my time on you.

Eventually, we are able to become friends and he gets married about a year and a half ago. She is nice enough, but I hate that it's just expected for me to be friends with her. I also hate that TBR acts all offended if she's around and someone says something scandalous, but when she's gone he says some pretty filthy things. I guess I didn't really like her tons before and her properly working reproductive system just cinched it for me.

Before you judge me too harshly, these are friends that we would hear nothing from for months, but would call out of the blue to ask for a ride to/from the airport...the day before! Yup, the day before they came home from their honeymoon TBR called The Boy because he "forgot" to arrange a way home. Get a loving cab!!! TBR is also the one who when The Boy told him a bit about our struggles with infertility responded by saying, "So you had to spooge in a cup? Ha ha!" with all the class of your average frat boy. People, don't make jokes about infertility, especially to the guys involved. It's not funny and you come off as a total ass.

So yeah, reading an oh so coy update that included her using the term "preggers" *skin crawl* was not exactly the highlight of my week. I ended up being pretty silent all night until we went to bed, when I lost it and just started sobbing. Deep, wracking sobs of self pity. She is due in April and it kept hitting me that by the time she has the kid we will still have over two years before we can even turn our paperwork into China. I don't envy her being pregnant, not really. I envy the quick progression that pregnant women have to deal with. I envy the money they won't have to spend on travel and fees. I envy the lack of home checks, physicals, and all the other endless hoops adoptive parents have to jump through. I envy her, and every other mother like her, the lack of pain both emotional and physical from infertility.

It's a hard thing to go through the months and years of struggle constantly trying to come to terms with the cards I've been dealt and realize that in spite of all the progress we've made, I will probably always feel that sinking emptiness every time someone announces a pregnancy. How many times will I have to go hide in that cold lonely space in my head wondering what I did to end up here.

Progress and one of my best stories

So the EPIC POST (must be all in caps, you see...it's that epic) will be coming, probably tomorrow afternoon. In the mean time, I actually have a few things to say regarding infertility and what's going on with us lately.

We had a very interesting visit with our therapist last week. He really has been such a huge help to us and I would highly recommend finding someone you are comfortable with. He is very blunt and up front with us and said that he wanted to talk about where we felt we were at and if the therapy was helping us. We both felt that it had been helpful and really appreciated being able to put words to what's been going on. His main goal is not to get couples to feel "OK" with infertility or push them toward adoption. He really just wants you to be able to improve your quality of life regardless of what the future brings.

I talked with him about how I have all these babies upcoming in the family and would love to be able to be excited for everyone rather than feel like its a personal reminder of my own inadequacy. He asked why I felt I had to be excited, and that it's OK to feel sad about it. It's even OK to start crying in front of people because if they really care they know that I'm not doing it to try to get attention or make everyone wallow in misery with me. Also, he helped me realize that even before the infertility stuff, I wasn't really the type to get all that excited about a pregnancy anyway, so why do I feel I need to create feelings that aren't in my nature? I suppose life is a series of those moments of insight. I had never really let myself be OK with the emotions I am experiencing. I was mocked mercilessly as a child for crying and, at the ripe old age of 8, decided that crying in front of people was showing weakness that would invariably be exploited, so no more crying for me. He also said that when people we love ask us how we are doing, it's not fair to either of us to put on the brave face and say "Oh, just great," since we all knew it was a lie. Much better to be honest and say "You know, it's hard but we're getting through it."

I guess things like that would be obvious to other people, but sometimes you just need to hear the right thing at the right time put in the right words. I spent the next week allowing myself to experience my emotions, while still realizing where they were coming from. I would see a pregnant woman and instantly feel the sadness and loss that comes from someone having the audacity to procreate when I cannot. Normally, I would feel mean and rude for thinking such things and then start beating myself up over how I am not only broken but envious and bitter. Instead, I would hear our therapist in my head saying, "Yeah, you know what that does really suck and it does hurt, and it's OK to feel those things." And you know what? After that, I was able to move on. I can't tell you how amazing that feels to not have to dwell on those negative feelings. It wasn't the easiest at first, but I've been making progress.

A few days ago I was at an event where I saw roughly 25 hugely pregnant women, which would normally put me in a massive panic attack and downward spiral. Instead, I was able to experience the sad feelings, recognize where they were really coming from, and then move the hell on. Amazing! I know that infertility will always be a part of our lives. That even if we adopt, there will still be that pang of loss whenever I see a pregnant woman and realize that will never be me, but I am a realistic person. Pregnancy is overrated. Parenthood is what we really care about.

Biggest progress of all? I was able to actually look my sister in the eye and give her a hug. She is due end of April and is really getting quite big. I was able to ask her how things were going without the intent being a masochistic desire to be reminded what I will never have, but genuine interest in my soon-arriving niece.

I read infertility blogs that are full of pain and grief, and I get it. I've been there, gotten the t-shirt, filled up my punch card, and will no doubt come back to visit quite often, but I feel like I have finally moved out. At the very least, I have bought a nice time share in a happier place that I can visit. Has the analogy been beaten thoroughly enough? Yes? Good.

So where is the good story? Well if you've managed to wade through my jumbled thoughts this far you deserve a reward, so here you go.

Possibly my best story
I have a relative who is not the most sensitive. OK, lots of them are pretty callous, but she really deserves a medal sometimes. I have been on a restrictive diet for over a year to help with the endo pain, which I was OK with, but apparently other people found weird. She offers me some cake and the following interchange happened.

"Hey, have some cake!"

"No thanks, I don't want any."

"Oh come on! You're too skinny, have some."

"Actually I can't have any"

"See, too skinny and now your on a diet."

"Well, I actually can't have the wheat, dairy, sugar or chocolate because it makes the pain from the endometriosis much worse."

"You know, you should see a doctor about that. There are all sorts of new things they can do now."

"Actually, I have seen several doctors and medical knowledge about endometriosis is still very limited and most treatment options don't work well and aren't permanent. They don't even know what causes it."

"But if you got pregnant that would cure it right?"

"Um, it can. Or I can get a hysterectomy. Those are about my only options right now."

"You can't get a hysterectomy! The pain isn't THAT bad!"

"Well, actually it is, but we are still a long way off from deciding on something so drastic."

"Could you at least save your eggs?"

"Well, my endo is wrapped around my ovaries, so probably not."

"You could freeze your eggs!"

"Yes, but I wouldn't exactly have a uterus to put them in so..."

"But you could get a surrogate!!"

"Uh....pretty sure we would go with adoption over something so expensive and intense."

"You can't adopt!!! You're too pretty to adopt!!!!!"

"..............um.........thanks?"



Yes, she actually told me I was too pretty to adopt. The word you are looking for is "Wow."

And so it begins

Much as I have fought against the infamous "blog" I decided it was time to cave in and do it. While I am quite certain teh interwebs doesn't need yet another record of the minutiae of yet another dull persons life (those tubes get full pretty quickly, after all!), I felt I needed a place to record my thoughts about this rather insane time.

As of last month, my husband and I were officially labeled "Infertile" and sent off to visit an RE (reproductive endocrinologist). He will from henceforward be called Dr. Awesome, because he was. It was a very helpful meeting and, after reviewing our medical history, he recommended we do a couple rounds of IUI before considering IVF. Since IUI is about 5% of the cost of IVF in our situation, we figured may as well give it a try. After all, we'd rather spend our money on medical procedures than on, say, a new tv or an exciting trip. Who wouldn't?

The thing with infertility is, no matter how many people around you are seemingly in the same boat, you feel so desperately alone. There is no rhyme or reason to decide who will have success with meds, IUI, IVF, "just relaxing", or just "giving it time." Some couples try for years with nothing to show for it but huge debt and heartache, some get knocked up on their first round of Clomid. No matter how many people tell you how they went through the same thing for years and the doctors said they would never have kids, but they did so you can't give up hope, it doesn't change the fact that their experience isn't yours. I even have family who have struggled with trying to have children...and all but myself have had some degree of success getting pregnant.

So why add yet another blog about infertility to the already busting tomes of whiny blogs? I'm not here to write crappy emo poems about the barren wasteland that is my uterus, or to use terms like "baby dancing" (Gah! It's called sex!!!), if that is what worries people. Mostly, as I've looked back on the last year, there are some seriously messed up things that have happened to me that I find endlessly entertaining. "Infertility isn't funny!" says you...well I say it is, especially when it's happening to someone else. So let my awkward moments be your candle on the water.